


Gaslight

by Arcadias_Fire



Series: Iterations of the Infinite Reflection [3]
Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Blood Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiverse, Pre-Thor (2011), References to Shakespeare, Theatre, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 13:43:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21254312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcadias_Fire/pseuds/Arcadias_Fire
Summary: On a short jaunt to Midgard, Loki decides to attend the theatre and gets far more than he bargained for.****None of their companions had chosen to come to Earth this time. It was just the two of them. Just the sons of Odin set on a grand adventure. Sometimes that was the most wondrous thing in the cosmos.Other times - like today - it was hideously annoying, and Loki would ditch his brother at the soonest opportunity.





	Gaslight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Multifandom_7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_7/gifts).

> Although this is noted as being a part of a series, it's a standalone story.

“A short jaunt to Migard, you said. Everything is _ lovely _ there, you said. Come on Thor, what about this awful, stinking place is ‘lovely’?” 

“Ah, well, the last time I was here it was…” 

Loki raised an eyebrow at his oafish brother. “Less… fetid?” 

Thor wrinkled his nose even as he rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. “Aye. This was a lovely town a few centuries ago.” 

Loki rolled his eyes. “Well the mortals here have certainly discovered how to despoil their water supply if nothing else.” 

“I’m certain we can find some entertainment here, brother. Heimdall doesn’t expect us back for hours yet. Where’s your sense of adventure?” 

Loki cast a withering glance at the stinking river beside them. “I think it died of some hideous bacterial disease after setting one foot in that water.” 

Thor laughed heartily and wrapped a massive arm around Loki’s neck. “See, I knew you had a sense of humor. Now, can you do something to help us blend in?” 

Their armor was indeed drawing a few worried looks from the mortal passers by. “Very well.” With a thought, Thor was clothed in rough, homespun-looking garments like the people nearby who were clearly fishermen. Loki had spotted a mortal of a higher class when they arrived, and styled his own clothing after them. An elegant suit of clothes. Black wool, white silk, and a deep green and gold silk scarf. Rather than his helmet, he wore a tall, cylindrical black hat made of some sort of short black fur. Thor had to make do with a knitted wool cap. “I’m certain you’ll find your own desired form of entertainment in that garb,” Loki said, gesturing at his brother’s rough clothing. 

Thor looked down at himself and nodded. “It’s a good night for a tankard of ale or ten, and a brawl.” He cracked his knuckles, grinned, and walked down the pier towards the sound of laughter and song. 

Loki rolled his eyes again, conjured himself an ebony walking stick with a silver grip, and sauntered away from the vile-smelling river. 

Once he was far enough away from the river that the stench didn’t cling to his skin, Loki began to see the appeal of this city. The last time he’d been to Midgard, they’d been a fairly barbarous lot. But these mortals here, at the very least, had style. The lady’s clothing was rather graceful, if overly restrictive. Sif would have ripped one of those ridiculous skirts off in a heartbeat. But the gentleman’s clothing was quite handsome and relatively practical. The mortals clearly hadn’t mastered electricity as of yet, but the cobblestone streets were lit by tall gas flame lamps. It was almost civilized. 

In his stroll, Loki learned that this city was called “London” - which was the only thing Thor had gotten right - and that it was the heart of a mighty empire ruled by a beloved queen called Victoria. Eventually, Loki felt that he had enough information to blend in with the populous, and sought out his own form of entertainment. 

Spending an evening in a tavern with Thor was something he could do anywhere, and frequently did. It was an excellent setting for causing chaos with only the slightest effort on Loki’s part. However, Thor found most forms of entertainment beyond what could be found in a tavern deadly dull. 

If the Warriors Three were about, each of them could be counted on for different things. If it was a fine meal you wanted, Volstag was your god. If lovely ladies - and the occasional handsome gentleman - were your fancy, then Fandrel was the perfect companion. If you wanted a fight, there was no finer warrior to have at your back than Hogun. Sif… well, Sif would do whatever Thor wanted, though she pretended that she didn’t. Loki wished Thor would realize this and just bed her so they could all get on with their lives. 

But none of their companions had chosen to come to Earth this time. It was just the two of them. Just the sons of Odin set on a grand adventure. 

Sometimes that was the most wondrous thing in the cosmos. 

Other times - like today - it was hideously annoying, and Loki would ditch his brother at the soonest opportunity. 

Eventually, after wandering the streets for some time, Loki found a building which was clearly a theatre. He’d always been rather fond of dramatics, and had even taken pen to parchment a few times to write his own plays. It appeared that a performance was about to start, and a popular one if the queue was anything to go by. It was child’s play to slip inside and acquire a secluded box seat. 

The interior of the theatre was all red velvet and gold. Richly appointed though it appeared to be, that richness was an illusion. The gold was paint, not even gold leaf. The velvet showed its wear in spots and in need of a good brushing. But one didn’t become a seidmadr without loving illusions. Loki saw this illusion for what it was, and reveled in it. 

The lights dimmed, the curtain rose, and the play began. 

The language was notably archaic. More akin to the dialect of Asgard than of the folks out in the streets. The characters and story appeared to be historical, though Loki seriously doubted their accuracy. Still, a young prince, found lacking by his father the king, who would rather go on adventures with his friends - and play tricks on them - was sure to delight Loki’s mischievous soul. 

But that wasn’t what drew him. The plot and dialogue, masterful as they might be, were not what riveted Loki to his seat. No. The actor who portrayed this roguish prince was truly magnetic. All eyes were on him. He commanded the stage merely by setting foot on it. He was handsome, though it was difficult to tell, as far away as Loki was. Not to mention the cosmetics layered on his skin. But something about his smile, the way he moved, the cadence of his voice. All of it called to Loki, up in his box seat. 

He wanted. 

Loki had never particularly cared about the gender or species of his partners; beauty alone was enough to pique his interest. Taking members of another species as a lover was acceptable, as long as they looked Asgardian, and would live for more than a few centuries. Someone of the short-lived races was considered fine for a fling, though not for a long-term relationship. What would be the point, after all? 

Loki cared not a whit for any of these mores, and would do what he wanted with whomever he wanted, Asgard be damned. So, taking a mortal man as his lover would be criticized, but not exactly unexpected. 

This of course was assuming that the beautiful actor down on the stage was open to such a thing. In Loki’s experience, actors often were. Their profession meant they were already on the edges of propriety, so more flexibility was to be expected. 

Some might accuse Loki of tricking his way into someone’s bed, but he had no need for that. He preferred his partners to be enthusiastic, not reluctant. The only thing to do would be to approach the man and find out. 

However the evening might end, Loki enjoyed the play. The production values were nothing in comparison to how such a piece would be performed in Asgard or Alfheim, but the lead actor was enough all on his own to carry the show. 

Apparently Loki wasn’t the only one to think so. When he slipped backstage, there were a number of admirers already waiting outside the dressing room. Men and women both, which was heartening. A small spell dissuaded a number of people from waiting any longer. A more powerful one got rid of the last hangers-on. 

Finally the door to the dressing room opened, and a pale, giggling young woman left. Her eyes slid off of Loki, turned aside by the magic which hid him from human attention. He waited a few heartbeats, let the spell slide from his form, and knocked on the door with the handle of his cane. 

Another few seconds passed before the door opened. For a moment, Loki was incredibly confused. The person who opened the door looked almost exactly like himself. Was this some kind of spell? A mirror? But after a brief span of utter bewilderment, Loki started to see differences. The other had blond hair, not black, and it was curly rather than straight. His eyes were a sharper, truer shade of blue than the gray that Loki’s eyes tended to be in any but the strongest sunlight. His clothing was entirely different, a robe over the costume the actor wore on stage. 

But his face shape was the same, his build, the set of his eyes, their height. All identical. He even appeared to be the same age as Loki, though of course that meant nothing, given the lifespan of a mortal. A quick check showed Loki that this was no illusion, though some kind of magic did cling to this man’s form. That magic was ancient and primal. Alluring and bewitching. 

For a long moment, they stared at one another. 

Then the actor smiled. “Well, I’ve seen some odd things in my time, but this might just be the oddest.” 

Loki shuddered. The other’s voice was even the same. How could he possibly have missed that when he was performing? Something about the acoustics, perhaps? Of course, one’s voice never sounded quite the same outside of one’s own head, but still. 

“Indeed,” Loki replied. “A strange coincidence.” 

The actor’s smile widened. “So you sought something more than meeting a man who looked just like yourself?” 

“In truth, I didn’t recognize the resemblance until this very moment.” Loki looked up and down the abandoned corridor. “I found your performance moving, and I wished to meet such a talented actor.” 

The other man’s eyes swept over Loki’s form. “Nothing more?” 

“I didn’t say that.” Unaccountably, a light blush spread on Loki’s cheeks. “I merely meant that our uncanny resemblance was not the motivation for my visit.” 

The actor’s smile grew even further. It looked almost… predatory. Loki found himself blushing even more deeply. It had been a long time since someone had looked at him like that, like they wanted to eat him alive. Most of his lovers knew exactly who he was, and were deferential to Asgard's Second Prince, allowing him to take the lead and control the relationship. This was fine most of the time, but a change of pace was always pleasant. 

"Well," the actor said, interrupting Loki's train of thought, "it appears that my evening is free." He gestured to the empty corridor. "Would you care to accompany me? My club isn't far." 

"If you'd like," Loki replied. "I have no plans." 

"Excellent, just give me a moment to get ready." The actor closed the door - to Loki's dismay - leaving him alone in the hall. Loki spent a few minutes assuring himself that cut of his clothing was impeccable, that the wool and silk were spotless, and that his nails were clean. He also made certain that he had a dagger a mere thought away in his pocket dimension, just in case. This was a little too easy. It might be that they were of the same mind - an evening’s pleasure spent with a handsome gentleman - but it was always possible that Loki read something wrong. He was only faintly familiar with this culture, after all. 

In less time than Loki would have credited, the actor reemerged from his dressing room. His outfit was much like Loki's, though he wore a cravat of brilliant scarlet silk, and pulled on black leather gloves as he shut the door. 

"If we are to be companions for the evening, I should like to know your name," Loki said as he followed the actor's lead down the corridor. 

"Ah, yes, of course. My manners escaped me. My name is Thomas." 

Loki raised an eyebrow. He was fairly certain that being given just a first name - assuming it _ was _ a first name - was overly informal. "I'm called Loki." 

This earned him a smile and a raised eyebrow. "Like the god?" 

Loki grinned. "Yes." 

Thomas laughed. "I can't say that I've ever met anyone named after a Norse god before." He held out a hand. "A pleasure." 

Loki shook his hand in the Midgardian fashion, regretting the lack of skin contact. "I assure, the pleasure is mine." 

Thomas opened the door and waved Loki through. "I suppose we'll see, won't we?" 

Loki smiled to himself as they emerged into the foggy night. A promising beginning indeed. 

o0o

As the actor said, the walk wasn’t far. A few streets at most. The night was foggy, but the pools of light surrounding the tall gas lamps allowed Loki to see well enough. His companion lead him unerringly through the twilight to a nondescript brick building. 

“Here we are.” Thomas’s voice seemed muffled in the fog. He stepped up and rang a brass bell. Mere seconds passed before the door was opened by a tall, thin man in an impeccable black suit. 

“Welcome, my lord.” 

Loki raised an eyebrow at his companion, who gave him a sly smile. “Would you believe that it’s just a conceit of the club to refer to all the members as such?” 

“I might,” Loki replied. “But I wouldn’t rule out that noble blood flows in your veins.” 

Thomas laughed. “Perhaps it does.” He turned to the footman. “Is the red room free?” 

“It is, my lord.” 

“Excellent.” Thomas divested himself of gloves, hat, and overcoat, handing them to the footman. Loki did the same, allowing his silver-headed ebony stick to go with them. He followed his guide through the luxuriously appointed corridors to a small sitting room. A settee and a chaise flanked a hearth, a small fire burning merrily on blacked stone. True to its name, the mahogany furniture was covered in red velvet, as were several walls. The room had the feel of an expensive jewel box. The fabric made the space seem even quieter and more cozy that Loki might have thought. 

“Would you care for a drink?” Thomas looked at Loki over his shoulder. “The wine cellar is excellent.” 

“Very well,” Loki replied as he took a seat on the settee. “I’ll take your recommendation.” 

“As you like.” Thomas turned back to a small table covered in crystal glassware. “Feel free to let me know if this isn’t to your taste.” He handed Loki a glass of amber liquid, keeping a glass of red wine for himself. 

Loki took an experimental sip of the liquor. It was strong enough to burn, and had an odd, smokey flavor. It was no stronger than Asgardian meade, so there was little chance of him getting drunk off a single glass. 

“What do you think? Does it suit?” 

“It suits, yes.” 

“Wonderful.” Thomas sat down on the far end of the settee. If either of them moved, they’d be in touching distance. “So, Loki, what brings you to this part of London?” 

Loki hesitated, but decided a sprinkling of truth would serve him well here. “My brother and I came down simply for an evening’s entertainment, little more.” 

“Your brother?” 

Loki nodded. “He has rather different tastes than myself.” He took a sip of his drink. “More along the lines of ‘wine, women, and song’ - and perhaps a brawl - than dramatics.” 

“Does he expect you back soon?” 

“Not for a while yet.” 

“Good.” Thomas took a sip of his wine. Loki took another pull from his own drink. He felt as though they’d passed another marker. Loki had let the other know that he had someone who would avenge him if something went horribly wrong, but also that he was happy to spend more time in the actor’s company. “May I speak plainly?” 

Loki raised an eyebrow. “I’d be most pleased if you did.” 

“I don’t bring many people to this club, but I find you terribly intriguing.” Thomas put his wine down on the small table in front of them. “It’s not just our striking resemblance, there is… something I find… tempting about you.” 

Loki flushed and took another sip of his drink before he too put it down on the table. “Tempting?” 

“Indeed.” Those striking blue eyes swept over Loki again. “Do you find the word objectionable?” 

“Not at all,” Loki replied. “I find it unexpected, perhaps, but in no way objectionable.” 

“Surely you’re a sought-after companion in your home county?” 

“I…” Loki looked down at his hands. “My brother is the heir, and considered my superior in all ways.” He hadn’t intended for that admission to slip out, but that didn’t make it any less true. “Few look past him to his shadow.” 

“Ah, my friend, that is a pity. One can find the finest things in the shadows, if one knows where to look.” Thomas moved closer, seeming to glide along the velvet. “Perhaps it is those shadows that I find so fascinating.” 

Loki looked up to meet the other’s gaze. This stranger seemed to appreciate him far more than most in Asgard’s court did. The pure blue of his eyes seemed to look into Loki’s soul and find it delightful, rather than pitiable. “Few appreciate what I have to offer,” Loki admitted. 

“Then they are fools.” Thomas reached out and cupped Loki’s cheek with his hand. His skin was notably cool in the warm room. Or perhaps Loki was just terribly flushed. Whatever it was, he leaned into the contact. Thomas’s smile turned into a grin, and he leaned in and kissed Loki very gently on the lips. The contact burned right down to the core of Loki’s being. He’d been kissed by many over the centuries, men and women both, but this… this felt different. He returned the kiss with a deeper one of his own. 

_ Yes, this is what I want. _

Two kisses became three, then four. Loki deepened the kiss further, sought the heat of the other’s mouth. He tasted… odd. But it had been so long since Loki had taken a mortal lover... perhaps he misremembered how they tasted? But the oddness was swept away by the other’s tongue against his own. Loki groaned and dove in again. These kisses were addictive. It was only when his lungs demanded air that Loki pulled away. 

“So eager,” Thomas muttered. “Tell me, Loki, have you been with a man before?” 

“Many times,” he replied. “In truth, I prefer it to laying with a woman, though not by much.” 

“Mmmm… will you be taken by someone you just met? I promise that you’ll enjoy it.” Thomas slid his hand up Loki’s leg and brushed a long finger along his trapped cock. “Though if you’d prefer, there are other ways.” 

Loki’s eyes fluttered shut and he moaned. “I… ahhh. Yes. Yes to all.” 

“You beautiful thing, I will make you scream my name.” Thomas dove into another kiss, and Loki happily went with him. Now it was a scramble for who could take the other’s clothes off faster. There seemed to be a hundred buttons between them, but that was nothing compared to the intricate buckles of Loki’s regular armor. Soon their clothes were a pile of silk and wool on the floor, and Loki was on his back under a man he just met, happily sucking a bruise onto his neck while he slowly stroked the other’s cock. 

Thomas thrust into Loki’s hand and groaned. “Oooh, you weren’t exaggerating, were you?” 

“That I’ve done this before?” 

“Mmmmm…yes.” 

“Many times, as I said.” 

“You… ahhhh, you are a treasure.” 

The praise sang to Loki’s soul. He thrust against Thomas’s hip as he rubbed his thumb in small circles over the head of the actor’s cock. “It sounds like you want to keep me.” 

“I might.” Lust-blown blue eyes fixed on Loki’s own. “Are you ready?” 

If Loki had wondered what the other meant, one of those beautifully long fingers slipped into him. Loki’s eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned. “Yes… yes, that, please.” It had been a long time since anyone had taken him, but a small spell, effortlessly done even in the heat of passion, would make it easier. This was a subtle magic, affecting Loki’s body and nothing more, so unlike his usual illusions. It shouldn’t have been notable to any but himself, but Thomas’s eyes went wide, as though he detected Loki’s seidr. 

But perhaps Loki imagined that look. The next second, two fingers replaced one, and he was pinned to the settee by another kiss. Loki allowed his hands to wander over the other’s cool flesh. It had been a while since his last regular lover, so perhaps he was a little over-eager, but this was exactly what he wanted. He could flip them easily, Asier strength was easily more powerful than that of a mortal, even if one wasn’t a proper warrior. But he wanted this as it was. He wanted to be pinned down by the illusion of strength. Taken apart by another man’s hands and mouth. 

Thomas brushed his cheek against Loki’s as he kissed along to the side of Loki’s neck. A faint scrape of teeth against his skin made Loki shudder and moan. Buck up his hips, even as those beautifully long fingers found that sweet spot inside of him. A silken hand on his cock made his head swim, lust-dazzled and desperate. 

“Are you ready for me?” 

Loki nodded. “Yes, yes, please.” Another deliciously light bite over the muscles of his shoulder made Loki moan. “Yeeesss.” 

The next moment, Loki found himself pulled upright, and pushed over the chaise, chest first, arse in the air. Before he was able to do more than marvel at the other’s strength, Thomas was atop him, and Loki was impaled by the other’s cock. Dear Norns, but that was sweet. Loki didn’t bother to stifle the cry of pure pleasure that burst from his throat. 

Firm hands held his hips, as Thomas slammed into him over and over. Loki gripped onto the wooden frame of the chaise tight enough that the mahogany creaked under his fingers. There wasn’t any pretense about what this was. Loki was being fucked more thoroughly than he had been in centuries. The actor adjusted Loki’s hips and the angle of his thrusts until he was hitting that glorious sweet spot more often than not, and Loki let out tiny, mewling moans at the sweet impact. Over and over again, pushing him closer and closer to that glorious point of ecstasy. 

As Loki got closer and closer to spilling over the edge, he could hear that his partner was coming closer with him. Thomas’s breath came faster and faster. Groans of pleasure sang over Loki’s skin. The actor leaned forward so that his chest was pressed to Loki’s back, one arm wrapped around Loki’s chest while the other came down so that he could stroke Loki’s cock in time to his now-shallow thrusts. 

Loki shuddered and arched back so that their skin was pressed together in a sweat-soaked line. Thomas growled in his ear, and Loki gasped. He was so close, so very very close. The other’s cock swept along the most intimate, tender parts of him. His hand, likewise a perfect caress along Loki’s cock. Altogether, it was Valhalla itself. Loki realized that his voice was spiralling up, out of control, towards a scream of rapture and bliss. His lover panted against his neck, making his own sweet groans of pleasure, driving them both higher. 

Loki’s orgasm crashed into him with a scream. Thomas moaned into Loki’s ear, shuddered against his back, and something incredibly sharp penetrated Loki’s neck. 

It was agony, the biting sting of one of his own slimmest daggers. No, _ two _ of the minute blades. Hard on that realization - that he’d been pierced by something and his blood was draining away - came a wave of absolute euphoria. A second orgasm, ten times as powerful as the first. Loki’s scream of pain turned into one of pleasure as the world faded to black. 

o0o

When Loki regained consciousness, he was still draped over the red velvet chaise. Still naked and somewhat sticky. He ached in more places than he’d prefer to think about and felt as weak as a kitten. Over that pain and weakness, he floated on a cloud of sweet lethargy. The satisfaction of wonderful sex, but magnified a hundred times. Loki levered himself up off the back of the chaise into a sitting position and looked around. 

Thomas sat on the settee buttoning up his shirt. He looked up when Loki stirred. A tiny smudge of red clung to the corner of his mouth, but otherwise he looked completely normal. 

Loki shuddered. 

“I have taken many lovers over the centuries,” Thomas said, quite conversationally. “And fed from many more, but I have never encountered someone like you.” He fastened his cuffs with deft movements. “You taste like the north wind and the aurora. An ancient forest grown over the barrow of a king.” He looked Loki over once more. “What are you?” 

“I…” Loki ran his hands over his face. “I am the god you thought me to be named for. I am Loki.” 

Thomas’s eyes went wide. “A god? Truly?” At Loki’s nod, the actor laughed. “Wonderful! I feel as though I could live forever without another drop of blood, though I’m afraid that will not last. I was right, you are indeed a treasure.” 

Loki ran a hand over his neck, where the other had bitten him. It was tender, perhaps bruised, but his hand came away clean. “What did you do to me?” 

“Very little,” Thomas replied. “I didn’t need to. Some need to be influenced, mesmerized, to come with me, but you did not. You came of your own free will, thinking of nothing more than an evening’s dalliance. I should have recognized that you were something more than you seemed. Well, I did, though not to the full extent.” 

“No… I mean…” Loki felt so sluggish. It was hard to put his sentences together. “You bit me, but… but it felt wondrous, and…” He shook his head. “I don’t understand.” 

“Ah well, I suppose even gods don’t know everything. Are you displeased?” 

“No.” Loki shook his head and the room swam. “Just… confused.” 

“If you would prefer, I can take away the memory of this encounter. You would return to you life just as it was. This evening would be a dream, and nothing more.” 

“No. I wish to remember this. Though I would have preferred if you had _ asked _ for my blood, not simply taken it.” 

Thomas chuckled. “I suppose that was a touch ungentlemanly of me. My apologies.” 

Loki nodded. He was feeling somewhat better. “I understand why you did not.” 

“Good.” Thomas moved so that he knelt between Loki’s knees. “Would you consider doing this again? Returning to me?” 

“I…” Loki blinked and looked at his hands. “Perhaps. I haven’t been to Midgard very often in the past few centuries, but I suppose I could return.” 

“It’s a pleasure to hear someone speak of centuries, other than one of my own kind.” Thomas ran his hands along Loki’s bare legs. “Even if you returned in a hundred years, I will welcome you.” 

Loki looked up and met the other’s calm blue gaze. He saw a true appreciation there. Not love, no. That would be ridiculous. But the kind of affection that such an encounter could bring. Desire and liking. “Very well. I will return when I can. It may be decades, I cannot say, but I shall come back to you.” 

The actor grinned broad and bright. Loki couldn’t see even a hint of the sharp fangs that had pierced his flesh, just a beautiful smile. “Good.” Thomas leaned in and pulled Loki into a kiss. It tasted like magic and a winter storm. Like a promise. Like hope. 

Loki got to his feet and summoned his armor. He waved his hand, and the discarded black wool and white silk vanished from their pile on the floor. Thomas’s eyes went a little wide, but he made no comment on the display of magic. “I should get back to my brother.” 

Thomas nodded. “There’s a back entrance, if you wish to not be seen.” 

Loki grinned and pulled the other into a kiss. “I have no need for that, but my thanks. Farewell, my friend. I will see you again some day.” One last kiss, and he vanished from sight. As Loki slipped out of the room, invisible to all, he heard the actor’s laughter, and smiled. 

He would certainly come back. Some day. 

  


**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween everyone! 
> 
> Just as a side note, I'm dressed as a Victorian gentleman (more specifically a Victorian supervillain) so this was terribly appropriate.


End file.
